Trinity Blood Vacation Bible School
by mycarcrashheart
Summary: When the Church decides they need to do more for the people, it's time for Vacation Bible School! Will Abel and Esther survive the week?
1. Fun with decorating

Summary: Caterina decides the Church needs to play a bigger role in the lives of the people, soooo… it's time for Vacation Bible School (VBS)!

Disclaimer: I don't own VBS (thank God), I don't own Trinity Blood; I do own this idea… I think. Oh, who knows. Just enjoy the show.

(**A/N: For those who don't know what Vacation Bible School is, it's usually a set of "classes" in the evening where kids can learn about Christianity through crafts, games, and Bible lessons. It's fun for the kids, not so much for the teen/adult workers. On the other hand, we get fed now…)**

**Chapter One: Fun with Decorating**

Esther, Tres, and Abel unloaded their decorating supply onto the plastic-cloth-covered tables, each producing their own sound of relief.

"Why are we doing this, again?" Abel asked wearily, flopping his tall frame onto a nearby plastic table.

"Don't you ever listen, Abel?" Esther scolded. "Honestly, pay attention this time!

Cardinal Sforza told us that the church needs to do more for the people. So that's why we're doing this…Vacation Bible School thing. Got it?"

"Whaat?"

Esther sighed. "Vacation Bible School. It's like religion classes for kids, or something. That's what it sounds like."

"But Leon said something about games…"

Esther looked around for her assignment papers, which were on the white Formica table in front of her.

"According to this, the theme for this year is Island Adventure. Leon's in the Recreation Department, Hugue's in charge of snacks, we're in Crafts, and…oh my." She giggled nervously. "And… Brother Petro and the Pope are in missions. Is that such a good idea?"

"Negative, my lady. Information gathered on the personalities of Brother Petro and the Pope suggests that such a pairing is not wise."

"I agree. So then the walkers are… Kate, Ion, and…Radu? I thought he-"

"Apparently not. But do go on." Abel motioned with his hand for her to continue.

"Oh, uh, and- wait, there _has_ to be a mistake. DIETRICH is in _puppets_? What's Cardinal Sforza _thinking_?" A fiery crimson shade washed over her face instantly, though whether it was from embarrassment, fury, or crushed puppy love was hard to say.

"Well, I think everyone should be allowed to join in the fun of VBS!" Abel said cheerfully, throwing decorations like autumn leaves around the room.

"Abel!" She shook her head and sighed.

"Whaat?"

"… Never mind." Looking around, her eyes fell upon the crafts instructions and a pair of inflatable flamingoes. "You get the decorating started while I look at tonight's craft, all right?

"Sure, but…"

"But what?"

"How am I supposed to blow these up? We don't have an air pump."

Esther picked up a flamingo in each hand. "How _do_ we blow these up?"

Tres answered mechanically, "I recommend that my lady employ hand grenades in order to 'blow up' specified objects."

Esther crinkled her eyes in confusion.

"Oh! Tres-kun, Miss Esther wants to _inflate_ them, not detonate them." Abel laughed, which, naturally, turned Esther into a hissing goose, chasing the gander. Tres interrupted their small spat.

"My lord and my lady, I recommend that we commence decorating, as our students are scheduled to arrive in 1824 seconds."

"Oh, that means we've only got…" Esther counted quickly, "about half an hour. Let's go!"

"OK!" Abel was quick to agree, keeping on Esther's good side. "What should I do?"

"Anything that doesn't need glue or scissors."

"Awww, why not? I'll be careful!"

"Not after last time. Oh, the Cardinal says you still have to pay for the choir robes. She said only Vegas singers have feathers on their outfits."

Abel sighed and began to pout.

"But they looked more fun my way!"

"Look, why don't you… cover these tables? I found some tablecloths upstairs." She handed him a thick bundle of red and yellow plastic sheets. "Try to be careful."

---

Surprisingly, he did better than Esther had expected. Even though she had to unravel him from a ball of string, explain three times what his job was, and stop him from accidentally falling into the inflatable pool, he was generally better-behaved than usual. _Maybe it's the different atmosphere_, she thought. _Maybe he's more subdued in a different church?_

But alas, it wasn't so. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw Abel making mischief behind her back. She whipped around and was ready to begin an extra-long scolding until Abel fastened a cheap grass skirt around her waist. Not willing to let him on to her embarrassment, she took a deep breath.

"Father Night-…" She stopped and looked at the other priest. "He got you too, Tres?"

"'Got me'. Positive." Unless Esther was badly mistaken, she saw both men wearing a skirt identical to hers.

"Ummm, Abel? Why-"

He held up a finger, pausing her in the middle of her query.

"We can be hula girls!" he said cheerfully.

"'We'? Who is 'we'?" she asked. "So apparently I'm not the only girl around here anymore, huh?"

Abel looked hurt. He pushed his glasses up onto his nose and sniffled. Esther's bad mood dissipated immediately and she tried for an apology.

"Abel, I…uh-"

"Miss Esther, that was very rude of you."

Esther flushed nervously. "I-I..know, I-"

"You and I both know that, although he doesn't show it, Tres must feel very upset at your comment. I'm sure he's rather self-conscious of his looks. "

Before his reply, Esther was feeling very small. Now, however, she felt like the only adult at a children's picnic. A picnic of three. And the children were dressed in stylishly cut priest's uniforms.

"Father, just…just hang up the flamingo, please."

----

Esther felt that feeling of awkward maturity again in the enormous church sanctuary. True to her previous feeling, she was indeed surrounded by about thirty children of all ages, as well as many Vatican agents. Strangely enough, there were also members of the Rosencreuz Orden sitting in the back pew, shifting uncomfortably in the sanctified building. She could see Radu whispering to Dietrich, while another unusual pang throbbed somewhere inside.

_Stop it,_ she told herself. Surely it wasn't heartache? Then her stomach growled. _Of course,_ she realized, _I forgot to eat before we left._

"May I have your attention, please. Everyone." Lady Caterina took the stage with a portable microphone. "Attention, please."

Naturally, simply telling a large group of children does nothing. So Petro decided to take matters into his own hands.

He rose from his seat with his Screamer in hand, a metallic squealing lance designed for the obliteration of his enemies. Therefore, it was no surprise that his appearance immediately quieted the room.

"Cardinal Caterina Sforza, second only to His Holiness the Pope, demands your undivided attention for an announcement of dire importance." All was silent as he shouted, with the exception of two rowdy Rosencreuz Orden members in the back.

"He talks so big," Dietrich said, snickering. "Yet I wonder what his weakness is. Perhaps it is something so embarrassing, he dares not speak its name?"

"Indeed," Radu replied. "What do you think it is?"

"Hmmm…"

While Dietrich speculated on possible phobias, Cardinal Sforza took the stage again to briefly announce that certain members of the Rosencreuz Orden would be "so charitable as to help the Vatican" with Vacation Bible School.

"Yes, go on, fool. Believe the lies that the Magician feeds you," Dietrich hissed.

"I believe the good Cardinal grows more foolish every day." Radu snickered.

"Surely so. No one with a working brain would truly believe that we are here of our own free will…"

"Only of Isaak's," Radu finished.

Dietrich flexed his strings angrily. "Foul…Magician…volunteer requirement, my…"

Radu decided he'd rather not hear the end of that sentence.

--

Esther and company began the long walk back to headquarters shortly after seven that evening. Since the only other event had been a tour of the classrooms, all three were in an optimistic mood (or as optimistic as an android can get).

"Well, this won't be too bad, will it?" Esther said cheerfully.

Tres answered with his standard "Affirmative", while Abel nodded and replied, "The kids are so cute! I don't remember being that little."

Esther giggled. "I mean this is the nicest way possible, Father, but I don't think you ever were that little."

Abel crossed his arms over his chest and pretended to ignore the snickering nun.


	2. Other Classes and Short Circuits

**Day Two: Other Classes and Short Circuits**

(**A/N: I don't own Trinity Blood or VBS or, really, anything.)**

"Thank heaven for break time," Abel muttered.

"What?" Esther teased, "You don't absolutely love the little darlings?"

"Oh, yes." He pulled his long silver hair around to his face and began showily pulling bits of pink and green gum from it.

"…I see," Esther said. "Father Abel Nightroad, traveling priest and wastebasket."

In return for her witty, good-natured remark, she received a conceding smile and a sigh.

"Perhaps we should check on His Holiness and Brother Petro."

---

They walked along the hallway lazily, poking their heads in doorways when possible. As they passed by, Esther saw Dietrich sitting on a linoleum-covered floor holding a felt puppet in his lap. She stopped and watched, slightly unnerved by her former best friend's sadistic grin. When he twitched his fingers, the puppet began to dance a quick jig. With more movement and another puppet, Dietrich was able to create a disturbing reenactment of a vampire attack. What more, the children were watching with wide-eyed fascination, silent as the walls around them. Esther shuddered and ran to catch up with Abel.

The next room to catch their interest held Pope Alessandro and Brother Petro, who seemed to dominate the conversation as well as most of the floor space. The Pope sat on a small table, feet dangling while he tried to steady the mitre on his head. Abel looked at Esther and opened the door a crack.

"And those who oppose the army of the Lord are doomed to a fiery pit of terror and despair, and brimstone shall rain down upon them, and they shall rue the day they ever denounced the Lord of all that is good."

Abel whispered to Esther, "I believe he does special exercises to develop such impressive lung capacity."

Esther laughed quietly as they watched the children's reactions to the long-winded warrior. Wide-eyed and open-mouthed, they seemed riveted by the knight's tales of battle and honor.

"Do you think this is really such a good idea?" Esther said.

Abel shrugged and kept watching. The young Pope, for once among children near his own age, seemed less frightened by Petro than usual. In fact, hearing about the Inquisition's adventures appeared to capture his attention as well.

Suddenly, all lights within sight began blinking and flickering. Esther looked worriedly at Abel. This church was in a Vatican-protected part of Rome, but there was still the faint possibility of a vampire ambush. _Surely not a church full of children…_

Without so much as a glance at Esther, Abel began running to the crafts room downstairs. Esther followed, if only to be sure that he didn't fall.

"Tres-kun!" Abel yelled, concern mingling with humor in his voice. He threw open the door and stopped, trying to hide a sudden grin."Tres-kun, why does this always happen?"

The handsome android lay on the floor next to the inflatable, water-filled pool, eyes closed.

"Is he all right?" Esther asked from behind the silver-haired Crusnik.

"I believe so. Tres-kun is rather tough, you know."

"What about the lights?" Esther pointed to the ceiling. Abel looked back at Tres and tipped his head to the side slightly. Then he caught sight of the broken red-and green Christmas bulbs in the pool and Tres' wet glove.

"Aha," he said softly. He carefully unplugged the offending light bulbs and, like magic, all flickering overhead ceased.

Esther went to fetch the Professor, Tres' "father", and the Cardinal, since she was the director of this catastrophe. When they arrived at the scene of the accident, Tres was sitting upright in a chair while Abel tried to get some information from him.

Caterina massaged her forehead while she adjusted her monocle.

"Father Tres," she began.

"Yes, my lady?" Tres said.

"Oh, I see, you'll talk to her but not to me?" Abel asked, annoyed with his younger coworker.

"Father Abel Nightroad, my data suggests that, although behavioral scans may provide contradictory information, you are not of the feminine persuasion,. As such, it appears that conversing with my superior," he looked into her eyes with something that could only be described as desire, "would be a more enjoyable use of available time."

Rather taken aback, the Cardinal blushed lightly and began cleaning the monocle hurriedly.

Abel, on the other hand, bit his lip in a failed attempt to stop smirking.

William, who wore a most unconvincing expression of seriousness on his face, tried to talk to the young robot.

"Tres, my boy. Do your central nervous systems seem to be warmer than usual?"

Rather than answering, Tres continued to watch Caterina. Her every movement seemed to fascinate him.

"Oh, no."

"What?" Abel grabbed William's collar in a dramatic gesture. "Please, Doctor, say you can fix him! He won't die, will he?"

"Doctor?" William pushed the child-like man's chair aside and sat down beside Tres.

"I was _going_ to say that Tres' internal processing unit appears to have been submerged for longer than ideal. It also seems that he became infatuated with the first woman he saw. I suppose that's you, Cardinal."

Caterina giggled in a most un-Cardinal-like fashion, blushing again. Tres reached out to grab the hand not holding the monocle. His eyes widened in awe of her face, now a deeper shade of red than her Cardinal's outfit.

"Tres, dear, you, um…" She trailed off uncertainly.

William stood up heavily and clapped Tres on the shoulder. "Tres, I believe you need a quick check-up. Come along, now."

In an uncharacteristic movement, Tres swept his 'father's hand off his shoulder and continued gazing into Caterina's eyes.

"Tres, I mean it. Don't make me get angry." But William looked far from angry. Instead, he rather resembled a proud mother, eagerly watching her lovelorn son.

"Do… do you think he'll be all right, Professor?" Esther asked, eying Tres carefully.

"Oh, certainly. He'll need a little drying, of course, and perhaps a new internal processor, but there's nothing to worry about. Unless…"

"Unless?"

At that moment, Tres slipped out of the cheap plastic chair and bent down on one knee, his face full of nervous determination.

"What is he…Tres! Noooooo!"

With a powerful leap deserving of slow-motion technology, William jumped between his 'son' and his superior, apparently under the impression that Tres was planning to propose to his boss.

"Come with me, Tres. Now!" He held out his hand and pasted as stern a look on his face as possible. Tres looked at him with disdain and continued his interrupted serenade.

" _Doubt that the stars be fire_

_Doubt that the sun does move_

_Doubt truth to be a liar_

_But never doubt I love "_

Abel looked impressed. "He's got quite a voice."

William, on the other hand, was more embarrassed than he could ever recall.

"Come _on_, Tres. We're going to get you back to normal." With that, he dragged Tres out of the room, where Abel, Esther, and Caterina all looked at each other in an amused silence.

---

The next two classes passed in a blur of fatigue, humiliation, and unfortunate accidents with the Superglue. By the time Esther, Tres and Abel had packed up their things for the night, even the usually bouncy priest was worn out.

"It hurts…" he wailed as they walked across Rome. His glasses dangled precariously from his nose.

"Abel, I told you three times not to grass-skirt Petro. He didn't like it."

"Uggghh…"

"According to my database, this mission will cease on Friday evening of the current week."

"Ohhh…" groaned Esther. "My head…"

**(A/N: Thanks for reading! Bonus points to anyone who can tell me which Shakespearean play Tres' serenade comes from. **


	3. Volleyball?

**(A/N: Thanks to all my reviewers so far. I hope BlueRogueLinds enjoys this chapter!**

It was finally time for their break, and Esther was glad for it. Two hours in an enclosed space with small children was more exhausting than fighting Methuselah.

"Hey, Esther! Let's go play volleyball!" Abel shouted as he raced for the door. "Come on!"

Esther frowned. _How does he still have so much energy?_

"What?" She followed him out the door, fully expecting him to jump out and surprise her.

"Whoa!"

It certainly was a surprise, though not the kind she had thought. Before her stood a makeshift beach volleyball net, complete with sand and palm trees. Abel held the ball in one ungloved hand, grinning.

"Has this always been here?" she asked suspiciously.

"Nope. Father Leon set it up this afternoon. Winner gets the other's snack!"

"What?" Esther gasped. Snacks were sacred. "That's not-"

Directly following this sentence fragment was the beach ball, which narrowly missed her rosary.

"That's it! Prepare to be defeated!" She kicked off her boots and served. Abel, who had been taken aback by her Petro-like battle cry, barely managed to return. Although his height was an advantage, he also had more of himself to move back and forth to defend his half of the court. _She's good!_

"Hey, Miss Esther! For such a short girl, you're pretty good!" He chuckled at her angry reaction. She got her revenge, however, by slamming the ball into the far left corner while he was laughing.

"You're not so bad yourself!" she said, serving again and narrowly missing Abel's head.

"And I'm not sorry!"

"I assure you, you will be in a moment!" Abel teased her as he returned the wayward ball. A sudden voice, however, made both him and Esther jump.

"He-ey, Father Four-eyes! You gettin' beat by a girl?"

"Father Leon! You made me miss a point!"

Esther stuck out her tongue impishly. "You wouldn't have gotten it anyway!"

"Hey, Esther's got a mean streak! You go, girl!" Leon laughed as he cheered her. Abel bared his teeth, which shut the Latino priest up a bit.

"Whoa, down, boy!" Leon shouted as he backed away. "He comes with his own flea collar," he added as an aside to Esther.

"I would prefer silence to your commentary," Abel shouted as he missed Esther's next serve.

"Oh no, go ahead, Father Leon," Esther said cheerfully, hitting the ball with a solid smack. "What's the score now?"

Abel grimaced. "I… haven't been keeping track."

"You better just give up now, Four-eyes. Miss Esther's got you beat."

"Are you kidding? Death before dishonor!"

But as the game wore on, death and dishonor were running a neck-and-neck race for Abel. His ribbon had long since fluttered to the ground, and Esther had scored every point since Leon left on "official business".

She seemed to be taking this quite seriously, even though he had intended it as a bit of a joke. He hoped she would spare him his snack.

When he realized that this was the last point, the only one separating him from a sugar-filled ocean cupcake, his Methuselah instincts kicked into gear. Although he didn't transform, he was able to see the ball coming as though it was floating through water. In another marvel of slow-motion technology, he swung his arm smoothly. He had it.

And he missed it.

With an earth-shattering boom, the ball hit the linoleum floor. Esther danced around in victory while Abel, too, hit the floor.

"Yeah! Go Esther, go Esther!"

"My cupcake…" he wailed.

"Think twice before betting on beating a girl, Abel," she said merrily as she skipped off to enjoy her just desserts.

Two cupcakes sat on two Styrofoam plates, with two forks and two cups of fruit punch. Both cupcakes were decorated with blue and white frosting, an unusually spiky red cocktail umbrella, and a tiny toy sword. And they were all Esther's.

Abel's silver hair trailed on the floor while his head rested on his folded arms. He didn't get up. He did, however, shoot the occasional puppy-eyes "have mercy" glance toward the red-haired nun.

"Nothing doing. You made the bet, you can live with the consequences."

"I don't think I can."

No reply.

"I'm so _hungry_…"

"I don't know why. You nearly ate all of Hugue's supplies before we left."

"Hmmph. He should know better than to leave the frosting out."

"He put it in the church's industrial refrigerator, under _lock_ and _key_, Father."

He couldn't come up with a good response.

"Mmm, this frosting is good." Esther smiled happily.

---

"I hope you enjoyed your cupcake. Oops, I mean cupcake**s**," Abel said when they came back into their classroom for the next class.

"Oh Abel, it was just a snack. Really, get over it."

"Miss Esther, snacks are a very important food group."

"Oh, really?"

"Really."

"Name the others, then."

"Let's see…"

Esther rolled her eyes and strode over to the table. It was, naturally, covered with sparkles, an alarming amount of Elmer's glue, and some unidentifiable substance. In Esther's opinion, they could do with some less messy crafts. Who came up with these things, anyway? Construction paper beach scenes she could do, but who really thought that 8-year-olds could handle the hot glue gun?

She addressed Abel. "While you're over there, Father, could you put up the Bible verses for tonight?"

"…Certainly, Miss Two-Cupcakes Esther," he replied, taking the workbook from her hand.

"_Get. Over. It._" Esther shook her head in irritation. For the love of God, it was just a cupcake.

They worked in silence for a while, with Abel pausing occasionally to see what he had written. Esther found this curious, but chalked it up to his usual silliness. Eventually, though, the pitter-patter of children's feet could be heard in the linoleum-covered hallway, and she turned to greet them.

"Hi, guys! Are you ready for tonight's craft?" She braced herself, and not without reason. Fifteen dolphin-range voices squealed, "YEAH!!"

"All right… if everyone can just find a seat… no, Jesse, it doesn't _have_ to be the one you had yesterday… the tree is _not_ a seat, Nicole…" She scooped another girl out the pool and sat her in a chair.

"Let's get started, then, OK?"

While she laid out the construction paper and safety scissors, Radu stumbled gracefully into the room and collapsed over a chair. His clothes were slightly frayed at the ends, and seemed to be smoking.

"Hey, it's Mr. Barvon! Where've you been, Mr. Barvon?" The kids scurried out of their seats and huddled around him, poking his face and lifting his eyelids to determine his state of consciousness.

Abel dotted his last 'i' and crossed the room with a snicker and backward glance. Esther, too, looked at the Rosenkreuz Orden member with some concern.

"Are you… all right?" she asked.

Radu mumbled something, then reached for a lighter and cigarette. After a few drags, he exhaled and muttered, "Death would be far preferable to this hell." Within a few seconds, one could hear a murmured, "I'm going to kill that puppetmaster."

The kids looked at each other in confusion, and Esther tried to regain control.

"O-kay… um, you'll see I've given you some blue paper…"

-

All in all, things went relatively (keyword: relatively) well as far as the craft. Nobody ingested too much Elmer's, major burns were avoided, and the kids seemed pleased with their paper sailboats. However, when it came time to review the Bible lesson for the day, Esther realized just what had put Abel in such a good mood.

"All right, guys, repeat after me. 'Teach me your way, O Lord, and I will not walk in the street; give me an undivided pie, that I may feast in your name.' What the… Abel, this isn't right!"

But the goofy silver-haired priest sat in the back laughing maniacally.

"I thought you would notice! Oh, Miss Esther, you're so funny."

She snorted. "Absolutely hilarious. Abel, do you have no respect at all?"

He thought for a moment. "What happens if I say no?"

"Grrr…" How did she end up with him, again? And when would Father Tres return? And what, really, was the meaning of life? Esther shook her head to clear her thoughts. "Anyway, guys, it _should_ be…"

-

As they left that evening, weary and worn, they passed Leon chatting with a rather young-looking woman in the parking lot. Three preschoolers had formed a circle around him, tugging on his robes and playing with his boots. Tired as they were, Esther and Abel caught only traces of the conversation.

"… in Rome, or where?" Leon asked.

"No… 555-34…"

"…you like Chinese?"

Esther gritted her teeth. Father Leon was not only a priest, he was the biggest Casanova she'd ever met.


End file.
